


In This Place, Secluded

by hallowgirl



Category: Camerband-Fandom, Camili-Fandom, Political RPF - UK 20th-21st c., camiband-fandom
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Angst, Belligerent Sexual Tension, Camerband, Camili, Crying, David Cameron - Freeform, Ed Miliband - Freeform, Election Results, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, First Kiss, Fluffy, Fluffy Angst, Foe Yay, Hugging, Kinda, Kinda First Kiss, M/M, Milifandom - Freeform, Next-Gen Labour, Opposites Attract, Political Campaigns, Politically anyway, Rival Romance, angsty fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 11:01:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4219269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hallowgirl/pseuds/hallowgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's ironic. I spend five years trying to get you to answer the questions and now you're answering ones I haven't even asked." If someone had told David Cameron three months ago that on the day he was elected for another five years, he'd spend the whole time worrying about Ed bloody Miliband, he'd have put more money on himself defecting to Labour. Based on a prompt of David comforting Nick or Ed after the election results. Camerband.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In This Place, Secluded

**Author's Note:**

> So, thanks partly to the lovely feedback on my other story, I've come up with a few more fics for this fandom! And this one came from the prompt of following David Cameron reportedly prioritizing the mentions of Nick Clegg and Ed Miliband in his victory speech, him comforting either Nick or Ed in the aftermath of the election results. Also, the fact that Ed Miliband, on hearing the results, apparently immediately called David Cameron to congratulate him. The title comes partly from the line from a Walt Whitman poem- _In this secluded spot, I respond as I wouldn't dare otherwise._ Leave a comment if you like it!  
>  Obviously, complete fiction, never happened, entirely imagined, etc.

If David had been told three months ago, that the day he was elected for another five years would be a day he spent worrying entirely about somebody else, he would have guessed a lot of people but none of them would have been right.  
Well, perhaps _worry_ is too strong a word. In fact, of _course_ it is. It's perfectly _natural_ to be concerned. In fact, it would be rather unusual _not_ to be. Just because you happen to disagree with someone on nearly every issue and spend too many hours a week seething about how bloody _irritating_ they are, and just because you've both spent the last several months essentially trying to persuade the country that the other's useless doesn't mean that you don't-occasionally-feel concern.  
Occasionally.  
David's actually grateful for this moment alone in Downing Street. It's been a long day-too long a day, in some ways, even though he could never complain. Sam's taken the kids upstairs to go to bed ("It's good that you won, Daddy" Nancy had told him very seriously earlier in the day. "Because otherwise someone else would have lived here and Mr. Miliband's children were _not_ getting my bedroom.") and for the moment, David can just sink back in the leather chair and think, away from the glare of TV cameras or the constant stream of _well dones_ that have come from seemingly every single face.  
Trust Ed bloody Miliband to be the one who's ruined it.  
Even though he's completely alone, David winces at the thought. It's not Miliband's fault (a lot of things are Miliband's fault, but this isn't one of them.) In fact, Miliband has been nothing but gracious (a word David would rarely have associated with the man beforehand.) The second David had been passed the phone that morning to be told who was calling, he'd closed his eyes, waiting for... _something._ Some remark about having another five years to blame Labour? Some very distant "congratulations" and a few awkward sentences before muttering a quick goodbye to each other and putting the phone down as quickly as possible?  
To be fair to Miliband, David had known the latter was unlikely. While he has a lot of things to criticise about Miliband (opposing someone for five years gives you a lot of time to think of all the things you hate about their opinions), he has to admit that Miliband is generally polite. And despite every single thing the two of them have thrown at each other in the past couple of months, he has to admit that when one particularly excitable school-child on a recent visit had asked him if he hated Ed Miliband, David hadn't been lying when he replied, instantly, _no._  
He'd been closer to lying when he'd given the _I don't really know him_ line, but then he suspects people would know that anyway. Two people can't work with and against and everything in between each other and not get to know each other _somehow._ Even just little things, like how Miliband takes his coffee or how his sons once kept him up so long demanding more bedtime stories that he fell asleep before they did.  
And it's nearly impossible, when you work with someone, (even if you work _against_ them too) _not_ to end up having a few moments of-liking? Friendship? Camaraderie?  
_More_ than a few moments?  
Sitting in a chair, listening to someone make an utterly idiotic point, feeling his lips twitch and glancing across absent-mindedly to see the exact same expression reflected on Miliband's face. Walking through the lobby together, with Miliband chattering animatedly about his children and his wife, gesticulating like an excited school child and catching himself staring at Miliband, feeling a pang of something that with anyone else, David would have described as _fondness._ Miliband and him, standing in the Downing Street Garden, with David insisting that he could always beat Nick at tennis, always, any day of the week, and Miliband raising an eyebrow with the remark _Any time, any place?_ And David had glared at him for a long moment, before he'd felt his lip quiver and the two of them had dissolved into laughter, and it had almost been loud enough to smother the little voice in the back of David's head whispering away that in less than four weeks, they would know which one of them would be living here for the next five years.  
David sighs, props his head on his hands. Just because it's been a good day doesn't mean it hasn't been a draining one. A tiring one. It doesn't mean his thoughts haven't been skittering from one topic to the next, with several looming constantly in the back of his mind.  
When he'd lifted the phone to his ear that morning, he'd said "Hello?", fully expecting to hear the name "Cameron?" in the voice he's got to know over the last five years, with that curl to the word that makes him picture Miliband with that disbelieving, almost _pitying_ expression he wears, as though he's just _humouring_ David, as if it's not _David's_ fault that he can't see whatever point is obvious to Miliband, he's just so utterly privileged and arrogant that of _course_ he couldn't.  
It's one of the most irking expressions Miliband wears. David knows them all.  
But instead, what he'd heard, was "Prime Minister?"  
David had swallowed, sitting upright as his aide left the room. "Miliband?"  
"I thought it might be appropriate to use your title." The tone was light but David had winced, anyway. He can barely imagine what it's like to be Ed Miliband today. He hasn't _allowed_ himself to imagine.  
"Thanks" is what eventually had come out of his mouth and he'd closed his eyes, already picturing the expression on Miliband's face, as he heard "At least, you haven't resorted to false modesty."  
_It's not like you'd be able to_ , David had resisted the urge to reply. Instead, he'd said "Saving that tactic for the next election."  
Miliband had laughed softly. "I thought this was going to be your last term?"  
"Well-" David let the sentence hang deliberately and felt his lips twitch at the remark he'd known was coming. "Don't tell me you're breaking promises _already_ , Cameron."  
"At least you're here to point it out to me."  
Miliband's voice had been softer, then. "You haven't been told, have you?"  
David had gripped the phone tighter. "What-what do you mean?"  
"I'm stepping down."  
David had almost dropped the phone. "What?"  
Miliband had laughed but the sound had been strained, taut and David had swallowed, fingers gripping the phone so tightly it hurt.  
"Are you honestly surprised? After those election results-" He laughed again, the sound even thinner this time. "I'm surprised I still have my seat, to be honest-"  
"Miliband." David had swallowed-it was Miliband's decision, of course, it was Miliband's decision and he'd just been on the phone commiserating with Nick-the Lib Dems weren't being forgiving and he could imagine that it wasn't going to be any better after Labour's disaster-but still-  
"Are you-I mean, are you sure? I mean-is there no way I-"  
David had stopped dead, but Miliband had already been laughing. "Cameron, are you about to ask me to stay on?"  
"No. I mean-not that I don't _want_ you to-I just-" David's voice had trailed away, and it had to have been the excitement, the adrenaline still pumping through him combined with the high of three hours' sleep, that made him say "I'll-well, I suppose I'll miss you."  
He'd wanted to slap his hand over his mouth the second the words came out, and he'd heard Miliband's breath catch in his throat. "I-"  
"You-"  
They'd both spoken at once and both had fallen silent, waiting for the other to take over. David had leant his head on his hands-why had he said that, why on _earth-_  
  
"Thank you" Miliband had said quietly and David had swallowed, unable to let the conversation end there. "Miliband" he'd said desperately, grasping for words, anything to keep him on the phone-he couldn't just let the conversation end like _that._ "You're-you're a good politician. I mean, I know I've said otherwise-"  
"Oh, I'm aware you've said otherwise."  
"But I didn't-I'm trying to say, you're a good politician. You-you are. I mean-" He'd laughed, desperate to interject a bit of humour into the conversation. "You've had five years debating against _me_ , after all, so if you weren't before-"  
He could hear the smirk in Miliband's voice. "And I imagine that self-service will be doing the country a lot of good over the next five years."  
"I'll let you have that one, Miliband."  
Miliband had laughed again, the sound a little more relaxed this time. "Cameron-" He'd paused for a moment and David had held the phone a little tighter, his breath catching in his throat. "Yes?"  
"Thank you" Miliband had said after a moment, and David had nodded, stupidly, as though Miliband could see him. "I mean-" Miliband had coughed. "I know we have our-disagreements but right now, that-that means a lot."  
David could bet it did, having heard some of the comments being muttered about Miliband the night before. "Miliband-" He'd swallowed and the name had hovered on the edge of his tongue for a moment before he got it out. "Ed-you're a decent man. A-" He paused for a moment, his heart drumming against his ribs. "A good man" he'd said quietly, the only sound in the room his own voice. "With good principles. And you-you always tried. No matter how much we disagree-you've always tried to do what you think is best. And I-" The words had caught in his throat. "I always respected that about you" he finally said. "Even when it wound me right up, to be honest."  
Miliband's laugh had been a little shakier this time, and David had found himself chewing at his lip, the phone pressed against his cheek.  
"Thank you" Miliband had said again after a moment and David had heard him take in a deep breath, before he said "And for what it's worth-I wanted to wish you good luck. With the leadership. I-like you said-we disagree, but-" David closed his eyes as Miliband finished softly, "I know you'll do what you think is right."  
"Not such a dodgy Prime Minister, then?" David had wanted to bite them back the second the words were out of his mouth.  
Miliband's voice had curled upwards then, though, with a teasing edge now. "Not such a waste of space, then?" he asked, and David had smiled, even as something in his chest ached at the sound of it.  
"Ed" he'd said very softly. "I-" He'd wanted to put the last five years into words, all the arguments and fighting and glaring and debating, the insults mixed in with the moments of shared glances and laughter, snatches of conversation that had, for just a few minutes, been blissfully free of politics, of work, been just talking, just between them.  
"I know" Miliband had said, far quieter than David had been expecting and he'd shaken his head, holding the phone tighter.  
"Thank you" he'd said quietly. "And-I meant it. You are a good-you're a good man." He'd swallowed. "Prime Minister's Questions won't be the same" he'd said, with an attempt at lightness. "They won't be-" He couldn't find the word.  
Miliband's voice had been low. "I'll miss that" he admitted quietly, and David had swallowed, wondering why he was biting his lip, why there was an aching lump in his throat when today should be the end of all that.  
David had wanted to say more but there'd been a knock on the door and he'd said "Ed, listen, I-I have to go but I-we can talk more later-"  
"Oh, that's-fine. That's-I quite understand." Miliband's voice had been suddenly lighter, a thread of forced cheer through the words. "Well, I-good luck, Prime Minister."  
"Thank you." David had hesitated. "Good luck, Miliband." There was a moment of silence and then he'd said "Good luck, Ed", his voice just above a whisper.  
"Thank you-" and then there'd been barely a breath where he'd thought Ed might say something more, and then he'd heard "Goodbye, David."  
He'd barely been able to register that Miliband had used his Christian name for the first time in what felt like forever, when the phone had been put down on the other end and David's aide had put his head round the door before he even had time to stare at the phone and wonder just what had happened.  
Now, David is sitting at his desk, chin in his hands, and instead of feeling triumphant, over the moon, everything he would have _expected_ to feel on a day like this, it would be Ed bloody Miliband he's thinking about instead.  
They'd seen each other at the ceremony, of course, but there'd been wreaths to lay and everything had been formal. They'd shaken hands, they'd wished each other well-but they'd never been alone, and the words had just been surface level. He'd had more time with Nick, than Miliband-which of course, he needed, given how close he and Nick had become over the last several years-but now, staring at the desk, David has to admit that leaving it at that phone conversation seems a little-inappropriate.  
Which is why, when a few minutes later, an aide knocks on the door to tell him Ed Miliband is here to see him, David isn't that surprised.  
It would be _Miliband_ , after all.  
It's a few moments later that he hears the knock on the door and says "Come in" with the cigarette box already out. David hasn't smoked in months-years, even-but somehow, it feels reassuring to have them near when a discussion with Miliband is imminent.  
Miliband steps into the room cautiously, glancing around as if he expects to find someone else here. "Oh-" His eyes widen a little when he spots David alone at the desk and David waves him in.  
"I was concerned I might be interrupting something-" Miliband begins to explain, that too-sincere, wide-eyed look already coming over his face and David is torn between exasperation and amusement, as Miliband awkwardly sinks down into a chair.  
He shakes his head. "No, no. Good chance you came by, it's the first time I've been alone all day."  
Concern crosses Miliband's face. "So I _was_ interrupting-I'm sorry, I'll go-"  
"No, no-" David's hand's out before he can stop it, reaching across the desk as though he can prevent Miliband from rising. "No, stay-I want you to. My own thoughts were getting a bit tiring, to be honest."  
He tries for a smile and Miliband arches an eyebrow. "Cameron-" David registers the renewed use of the surname with a mixture of relief and a peculiar twinge of what feels like disappointment-"While I appreciate being Prime Minister is rather taxing, I think you'll understand that today, you are _not_ the most injured party." A brief smirk flickers at Miliband's mouth. "No pun intended."  
David shakes his head slowly. "Good to see your sense of humour remains intact, Miliband. And by intact, I mean, as bad as it ever was."  
Miliband's laugh is soft but strained and David frowns, leaning forward to examine him more closely. Beneath the smile, Miliband looks shattered, shadows under his eyes, his skin tinged pale. David squints at him, concern stirring suddenly. "Are you OK, Miliband?"  
He regrets the words as soon as they're out of his mouth and Miliband glances up at him with a rueful smirk. "Cameron, do you really think _today_ is the right time to ask that?"  
"Sorry-" But Miliband shakes his head, raking his fingers through his hair. "It's fine. It's a fair question, considering-" Miliband tries for another smile but it's more strained than ever and David finds himself wishing the desk was smaller, so he could at least put a hand on Miliband's shoulder. It's not the only time he's had an impulse like that-for someone who aggravates him in so many different ways, David has to admit Miliband has an unnerving way of looking exactly like a wounded puppy when the stakes are down.  
Miliband laughs, the sound thin. "I have to say, that is probably the worst result I could have hoped for."  
David shakes his head. "Miliband, you can't blame yourself. I mean, there's a lot of different factors-"  
Miliband shakes his head, that smile back before David can even finish the sentence. "Cameron, don't pretend you're not loving this."  
"I'm not!" The words are more indignant than David intended and he sees a faint look of surprise cross Miliband's face, the eyes widening again.  
David sighs, stands up, walking round the desk without thinking. "I'm happy I won" he says abruptly. "I'm not going to pretend I'm not. But it doesn't make me happy to see you blaming yourself, especially for something that wasn't entirely your fault."  
Miliband glances up from under his eyelashes with a small grin. "Not _entirely_ my fault?"  
David smiles. "You wouldn't want me to humour you now, Miliband?"  
Miliband's laugh is louder this time, and David realises at that moment that somehow he's ended up standing next to Miliband's chair. He doesn't particularly want to continue the conversation standing over Miliband-if only because he's sure Miliband will have some comment to make about it-so he drags over another chair, takes a seat a few inches away, so his and Miliband's feet are almost touching.  
Miliband sighs, one hand raking through his hair. "Anyway-I wanted to stop by to say-" He breaks off, his eyes darting. David might be imagining it but it looks as though there's a small tinge of colour in Miliband's cheeks now.  
Miliband coughs. "Well, congratulations. Obviously. And good luck. And um-" He lets his gaze drop for a moment, then says, almost inaudibly "Thank you."  
David stares at him. "What for?"  
Miliband stares at the floor for a moment, before dragging his gaze upwards to meet David's. "For this morning" he says and David threads his fingers together for something to do, Miliband's gaze on his like a punch in the ribs, if a punch in the ribs wasn't entirely unpleasant. "When I phoned you-it was more-" He's definitely blushing now, and David ignores the small spark in his chest at that sight, because that's just _overtiredness, overworked, hasn't had enough rest-_  
Miliband swallows. "You made it a lot easier. The whole day, I mean. I wasn't-I wasn't entirely handling things very well, this morning-" He tries for another laugh and David leans forward almost without realising so that their knees are just brushing. "And you-well, you made things easier. Being as-as polite as-well, you know what I mean." Miliband's teeth chew at his bottom lip for a moment before he says "Thank you for that. Honestly. It-it helped a lot."  
David swallows. "I meant it" he says quietly, because it's just the two of them now and who knows how many more times it will be like this? "Every word. You-you are a good man, Ed." He lets a smile cross his mouth. "Even if your techniques leave a lot to be desired-"  
Miliband laughs softly. "I was wondering when you'd come back to your normal self, Cameron."  
David shakes his head and his hand falls on Miliband's sleeve, before he can stop it. "You are a good politician" he says quietly and Miliband's eyes flicker back to his. "You stand up for what you believe in. That's the most anyone can ask of a person. Let alone someone working for others. And-" David swallows, clears his throat, but he has to say it now, he can't just leave it there-"I will miss you."  
Miliband does smirk this time. "I expect so. No one will be there to point out your catastrophic errors of judgement, now."  
David shakes his head. "Don't ruin the compliment, Miliband." But the words lack any biting tone, and Miliband smiles back at him, softer, this time. "If it was a compliment, Cameron, then thank you."  
David smiles back and Miliband shrugs. "First one I've had today, so-" He arches an eyebrow and David feels a smirk tug at his own lips. "I'm sure your fandom leapt to your defence."  
Miliband closes his eyes, the grin spreading over his face now. "I knew it wouldn't last."  
David laughs softly. "Now, Miliband. At least the term "Milifandom" may in fact, go down in political history."  
Miliband grins at him. "You were loving every minute of that, weren't you?"  
"Yes" David agrees instantly. "Although I can't deny it was intended to be flattering."  
Miliband agrees with a jerk of the head. "Good to have some who aren't calling for my head" he says, but the words clearly come out heavier than expected, and David leans forward, squeezing Miliband's arm gently.  
"They'll come around" he says, his own voice lower now. "For what it's worth, I thought your speech was-" David was originally going to say "admirable" but he settles for "Touching."  
Miliband's eyes meet his and David swallows, momentarily thrown by Miliband's gaze. "Well-" he says quickly. "I mean-I will miss you. We all will. It's been five years-" He tries for a smile but something about those words makes a lump rise in his throat. Because, for better or worse, it has been five years. Five years of yelling at, complaining about, generally putting up with, arguing with Miliband. Five years of Miliband never letting him off the hook with anything, and David secretly liking the toughness of it all, of the way Miliband refused to back down, just plain refused to give up. Five years of waking up, heart racing from furious debates he'd even carried out with Miliband in his _dreams_ , of all places.  
Miliband stares back at him. "Yeah" he says, suddenly, and the softer tone makes something in David's chest twist as he tries for a smile. Miliband doesn't look away. "And for what it's worth-" David watches as Miliband's fingers close around his tie. "I'll miss you too." Miliband's lip curls in a grin. "God knows how many mistakes you'll make now."  
"And you're back to normal." David's about to stand up when Miliband's hand closes on his wrist.  
"Wait-" Miliband's eyes are back on his and David sinks back down in his seat, trying not to think about how warm Miliband's fingers are, about how familiar and strange it feels to have them encircling his wrist.  
"Thank you" Miliband says and there's something raw in his voice. "For everything. Not just today, but-" He closes his eyes for a moment and then says quietly, "I'll miss you too."  
David feels something wrench in his chest then and maybe it shows in his eyes, because Miliband's widen and he pulls his hand back. "Sorry. I should go-"  
"No. No, wait, Miliband-" Miliband's already turning for the door when David puts a hand on his shoulder. "Ed" he says quietly and Miliband stops and turns back to face him.  
David doesn't have a clue what to say but even as his mouth opens, groping for words, Miliband shakes his head. "Sorry" he says, and there's a gulping sound to his voice now, as if it's being dredged from the depths of his throat. "It's just-been quite a difficult day." He swallows and blinks hard, turning to stare at the wall for a moment and David drops his eyes tactfully, letting Miliband get his emotions under control.  
"It's just-" Miliband's lips twitch, as if he's trying for a grin but just can't manage it. "I really _tried_ , you know."  
David feels that lump swell back in his throat. "I know" he says softly and he takes another step towards Miliband, his hand reaching out. "I know."  
Miliband shakes his head. "I mean, it would be one thing if it was just me-but _so many_ people-"  
"Ed" David says quietly. "It wasn't your fault."  
Miliband glances up at him and David feels his own eyes widen at the sight of Miliband blinking harder than ever. "I don't think many people agree with you right now, Cameron" he says quietly, but the last word catches in his throat and David catches the gleam of Miliband's eyes as he hastily lowers his head.  
"Ed-" A part of David wants to step back, let Miliband have the moment to regain control of himself, but another part can't stand the thought of this being how they part. While a part of his brain reminds him that he's being overdramatic, that they're almost definitely still going to be seeing a lot of each other, this is technically the last time they've stood together as Prime Minister and Leader of the Opposition. Even if Ed's already resigned, there's something final about this, and David doesn't want this to be the last sighting of Miliband he remembers as Leader of the Opposition.  
So he steps forward instead, lets his hand fall back on Miliband's arm. "Ed" is all he says before Miliband raises his head, looking thoroughly miserable-which isn't a shock-but then, with a shrug that jolts something in David's chest, makes that lump in his throat twice as painful, raises his hand to scrub it across his eyes, which David realises, to his horror, are damp.  
"Oh-" David's reaching for Miliband before he even thinks about what he's doing, and then it's too late. One hand slides clumsily over the back of Miliband's shoulders and he's stepping forward, and before he knows what he's doing, he's pulling Miliband closer, his arms sliding around his back, pulling him rather awkwardly into a hug.  
He feels the surprise in Miliband's body, feels Miliband tense against him at the same time as he realises just exactly what he's doing and finds himself staring stupidly at his hands on Miliband's back as if they might belong to someone else. But no, they're most definitely his hands, it's most definitely his office, it's most definitely him, hugging Ed Miliband, and it's most definitely him wondering just what on earth had got into his head a few moments ago.  
He's about to pull away, to pull back-maybe just finish it with a pat on the shoulder-but then he feels Miliband's shoulders rise suddenly and then fall with a shudder, and then Miliband's hands are pressing into his own back and something in his body is relaxing a little as David holds him awkwardly-he is _holding Miliband-_  
But then he feels Miliband give a little gasping breath against his neck, a gasp that David knows without looking is threaded with a sob and he tightens his arms a little, lets one hand rub hopefully soothing circles in between Miliband's shoulder blades. Miliband's dark hair brushes David's chin and it's then that David realises Miliband's head is lying on his shoulder.  
Whatever he might have expected from the day when he woke up this morning, it wasn't this.  
But right now, his mind's too much on the way Miliband's head is buried in David's collar and how tightly Miliband is holding onto him and he wonders for just how long Miliband has been keeping it all together. David knows from experience how draining it can to be to be the strong one, to keep insisting that you're _fine, everything's fine, we'll get past this, there'll be a way around_ -And he's never been in a position even vaguely close, professionally, to the one Miliband is in right now.  
So he just holds on and when Miliband's arms tighten, one of David's hands reaches up and somehow ends up smoothing Miliband's dark hair. He doesn't know he's going to do it until it's there, and then it's too late to stop. Miliband doesn't seem to notice, anyway, or if he does, he ignores it, letting David card his fingers gently through Miliband's hair, fingertips just skimming his neck gently as he focuses on the feeling of Miliband against him, on the strangeness of that rather angular, surprisingly warm body against his own.  
He's never hugged Miliband before-not properly. A few touches on the shoulder, a few hands on the arm when they agree on something and they've managed to persuade both their parties of the same idea-a miracle in itself, David reflects-maybe even a pat on the back, or both hands on the shoulder when something particularly rare has occurred. But nothing like this, and David's surprised to find it's not as uncomfortable as he would have imagined.  
Miliband doesn't speak, he just holds onto David tightly, his head still lying on David's shoulder and David combs his fingers through his hair again and again. "Shh-" he says and immediately berates himself-Miliband's not a _child._ "It'll be all right" he says again and hates that line even more. "I mean-I don't know if I'm saying the right thing-"  
Miliband makes a noise into his shoulder that sounds like a mixture of a sob and a laugh. "Well, that's nothing new" he mutters into David's shirt but his arms tighten even more, as David rolls his eyes.  
"It's reassuring that you're still able to throw a few insults, Miliband, but-"  
Miliband's laugh is a little louder this time, though still muffled in David's shirt. David allows himself a small flicker of relief that Miliband hasn't pulled away yet and then blinks. Where did _that_ come from?  
Nevertheless, he holds on anyway, even as Miliband's breathing gradually becomes steadier as David holds him closer now, his own face tilted down so that his nose brushes Miliband's hair, breathing in the faint scent of shampoo and warmth. Miliband's hair tickles his face as he moves his chin slightly, one hand still stroking the back of Miliband's head.  
Miliband's head turns to the side so that he's looking away from David. "Cameron, are you-"  
"What?" David drops his hand immediately as if Miliband's head is red hot.  
There's a pregnant pause, then,"Nothing. It doesn't matter." Miliband's head settles back into place, almost contentedly, which David would be thinking about a lot more if he wasn't a little distracted by just how warm Miliband is and how holding him like this is starting to feel less and less strange.  
He isn't sure how long they stand there like that until Miliband's breathing grows steadier, his grip a little looser. He feels Miliband lift his hand to wipe at his eyes and loosens his grasp a little, letting Miliband lean back, blinking, as if he can't quite believe himself.  
"Here-" David reaches for his desk, with one arm, keeping the other around Miliband's shoulders. "I've got some-" He hands Miliband the box of tissues and Miliband takes one, scrubbing at his eyes, still blinking. "I'm-um-" He stares at David, as if only now taking in what's happened. "Oh-Cameron, I didn't mean to, I'm-"  
"Ed, it's fine, it's fine-" David's still got his arm around Miliband's shoulders, one hand sliding to his collar, which looks rumpled from the minutes it's spent pressed into David's shirt. "Here-" Without thinking, he rearranges it a little, and only when he glances up does he notice the flush of colour that's risen up Miliband's cheeks, his eyes wider than David's ever seen them.  
David drops his hand back to Miliband's shoulder as quickly as possible. "I'm-I'm sorry, I was just-"  
"No, it-" Miliband's eyes are darting from David's hands to his collar as if he's still trying to work out what's happened. "It's fine, um-thank you-"  
David nods. "Yes, well-"  
Miliband looks from his collar, then very slowly, his eyes move to David's face. "No, really" he says slowly. "Thank you. I-um-I don't know what came over me-"  
David shakes his head. "You had a rough day. It would be astonishing if you _didn't_ feel like-" He searches for a word but limply settles for "this."  
Miliband nods slowly but then he reaches up, his hand falling on David's shoulder, their eyes meeting. "David" and Miliband's voice is lower now. "Thank you."  
David tries not to dwell on the sound of his name in Miliband's voice. "It's fine" he says instead, and Miliband dabs at his eyes once more with the tissue, before pushing it into his pocket. He doesn't move his other hand from David's shoulder and suddenly David can feel his heartbeat against his ribs.  
"I-" Miliband looks caught, his eyes roving up and down David's face, teeth chewing his lip as if he wants to say something else. "I-"  
David's mouth is unexpectedly dry and abruptly he realises that Miliband's hand is at the edge of his collar and when he moves a little closer, one of Miliband's fingertips brushes his neck. "Yes?" he says, but his voice is lower than he expected, and when Miliband's hand comes up to rest on his shoulder, while the other rests at his collar, thumb just touching David's skin, David feels almost light-headed.  
"I-" Miliband's eyes are only a few inches from his own. "I should probably get going soon-"  
David feels an irrational rush of disappointment. "Oh yes. Yes, of course-"  
"But-" and Miliband's thumb dances back and forth for a moment, and David feels his lips part at the spark of sensation. "I wanted to say-I meant it, what I said. No matter what we disagree on, I will-miss you." Miliband's voice is barely above a whisper.  
David clears his throat and perhaps it's the fact that it's just the two of them here, perhaps it's the sheer length and magnitude and drama of the day, perhaps it's the fact that this is something ending, even if it could be the beginning of something else. Maybe it's all of it but he opens his mouth and the words spill out.  
"I wish you hadn't resigned" and his hand is on Miliband's shoulder and he's looking straight into his eyes. Miliband doesn't speak. He just stares back at David, his eyes suddenly seeming several shades darker, and his lip trembling a little though it could be David's imagination. His eyes rove up and down David's face as the seconds stretch out between them, the air so taut it's almost difficult to take a breath.  
David has to do something, say something, anything, and Miliband's so near, so close, and he's just had his hands in his hair and he can feel the heat of his skin, the tip of Miliband's thumb just touching his neck, and it's something insane which makes him do it, some crazy desperation singing in his blood, which makes his hand slide up to cup Miliband's neck gently, feel the flare of heat of Miliband's skin under his hands. He feels Miliband's sharp intake of breath, feels his pulse beating crazily against his own thumb as he leans forward, thinking of the five previous years and the way it feels when he and Miliband are shouting across the room at each other and the way it feels when Miliband gives him one of those rare smiles, in the moments when they can pretend they're on the same side and how close Miliband is, and how right now, secluded away from the world, it's just them-  
He leans forward, his heart beating so fast he feels almost sick with it, and very, very softly presses his lips to Ed Miliband's cheek. It's a soft kiss, one that lingers for a few moments against Miliband's warm skin, one that leaves David's head spinning, and he pulls back sooner than he'd like to. It feels like a breath and as though the moment's lasted forever. It feels like his skin's too tight for his body. His heart's pounding crazily.  
He's almost afraid to look at Miliband but he does, he has to, he can't look away- His eyes flicker up and he hears his own sharp intake of breath at the look on Miliband's face. Miliband's eyes are wide, his lips slightly parted, his cheeks flushed. A lock of his hair falls forward and David wants to reach for it but he doesn't dare, as Miliband stares at him like David's some rare, new thing he can't quite believe he's seeing.  
"It-"" David can feel himself starting to explain but he can't stop. "It doesn't-I mean, maybe I shouldn't have done that, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable-"  
He stops abruptly, because Miliband's hand has covered his mouth. Miliband's fingers are warm and gentle and David freezes as Miliband steps impossibly closer so that their chests are touching, an inch away from him feeling Miliband's heartbeat.  
"It's ironic" Miliband breathes the words, an inch away from his skin. "I spend five years trying to get you to answer questions and now you're answering ones I haven't even asked."  
David feels his lips twitch but he can't even smirk back, because Miliband's still staring at him, those big, dark eyes only an inch away, and then Miliband's leaning closer, his eyes open and on David's the whole time. David can't think. His head's too full of Miliband's skin and eyes and- _Miliband-_  
Miliband's eyes flicker closed a second before he presses his lips very softly, to the corner of David's mouth, a feather-brush of a kiss. Miliband's mouth rests against his skin for a moment and David can feel both of their hearts pounding against each other, both of them breathing, both of them feeling each other's skin-  
Miliband pulls back his mouth but nothing else. Instead, David's hand comes up to catch his wrist and their foreheads rest against one another. "I wish you didn't have to go" David says and he feels the catch in his own voice.  
Miliband's lips twitch for a moment and he whispers "I knew your ideas were rigid, Cameron, but just because I lost doesn't mean I'm going anywhere." David must look confused because Miliband's small smile breaks out and he says "There's different definitions of going. I'll still be here."  
His eyes meet David's and his voice is softer than ever now. "I will" he says quietly and David feels something settle inside his chest, the urgency slow a little. His hand on Miliband's shoulder grips tighter for a moment.  
And perhaps it's Miliband's smile, perhaps it's those words, perhaps it's just him and Miliband, that makes David pause for a moment, their mouths just inches apart and he feels Miliband tense and knows that he could do it, he could lean in and-  
And he leans in very gently and lets their mouths meet. It's not like anytime David has kissed or been kissed before. Their mouths simply rest against each other, warm and soft and gentle, breathing each other in. David's thoughts scatter for a moment under the softness of Miliband's mouth, the feel of Miliband's hand sliding into his hair, their mouths moving together for one brief moment, before they both slowly pull back, both of them gasping for breath.  
David opens his eyes and lets his forehead rest against Miliband's. "I know you will" he says softly, and for a second they just watch each other, their breath stuttering in the air before David says "And I'm glad."  
Miliband watches him for another moment and then that smirk creeps back to his lips. "Cameron, do you really think I would not want to be there to point out every mistake you make when you don't have Clegg to take the fall?"  
David feels his own grin grow and he squeezes Miliband's shoulder for another moment before he leans in and says. "No. No, Miliband. I know you better than that."  
"You do" agrees Miliband and David smiles. "I do."  
The words are soft and for a second, he's looking into Miliband's eyes and they're smiling. And he knows that Miliband knows that in a few minutes, Miliband will leave and the next time they see each other, neither of them will make any mention of this meeting. And he knows that Miliband knows that they'll continue to fight and bicker and pull each other apart over every little detail. And he knows that Miliband knows that they'll both love every second of it.  
And he knows that Miliband knows that this isn't the last time they'll have this moment between them.  
So he just stays still, his forehead resting against Miliband's, skin warm against skin, wrapping themselves in this moment, secluded from the rest of the world, that they can be this together, and lets himself watch his own smile creep up to Miliband's mouth so for a moment they each watch their own expression on the other's face.  
They know each other well, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> As if anything could stop them from arguing. :) Leave a comment if you liked it!


End file.
